


Lover's Eyes

by TheWonderTwins



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Feels!!, M/M, Song fic, this plot bunny would not leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWonderTwins/pseuds/TheWonderTwins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Lover's Eyes</i> by Mumford & Sons gives me a lot of Derek Hale feels, so I finally hammered them into words and this ficlet is the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> _To my readers of The Lines on Which We Tread series, this is not in that 'verse. This is a stand alone. It wouldn't let me be until I wrote it, so ta da!_

_Well, love was kind for a time  
Now just aches and makes me blind_

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Golden hair that caught the sun and shimmered and smelled so sweet that it hid the unfamiliar smells of gunpowder and danger. He could pinpoint it no matter where she was in the school. He smiled to himself whenever he caught a whiff of it; a pleasant, secret reminder that she was there and waiting for him. Their secret meetings and stolen kisses made the romance exciting; it enticed the wolf with a playful hunt and he was rewarded with rich laughter and passionate encounters.

After a few months she made it harder for him to find her. The playful hunts turned into frantic searches, but the reward was still the same. Laughter and passion. He’d yearn for it, and go looking for it more frequently, ignoring his chores and responsibilities in favor of the hunt.

_This mirror holds my eyes too bright  
I can’t see the others in my life_

She was a predator. Like him, but not. She knew the thrill of the chase and showed him she knew. It was exhilarating. His wolf loved the challenge and went after it with an intense focus.

He missed the twins’ birthday party because the chase--and reward--had worn him out. His family grew concerned at his odd behavior, but he didn’t care. Then he missed Uncle Peter’s birthday, his parents’ anniversary, and Christmas Eve for similar reasons. He ignored their scolding and lectures, thoughts of Kate filling his mind completely.

_Were we too young? Our heads to strong?  
To bear the weight of these Lover’s Eyes_

She was his first in every way. He was young, in many ways, much younger than her, but he didn’t care. Neither did she. He didn’t care that what they were doing was illegal. Neither did she. It was secret, it was theirs, and he wouldn’t let it go; he did what she asked, stubbornly refusing to let fear or doubt or judgemental outsiders tell him that he could not have.

He should not have.

_‘Cause I feel numb, beneath your tongue  
Beneath the curse of these Lover’s Eyes_

When she has him on his back, when the chase is over and to the victor go the spoils, she drags her tongue over his skin. All thoughts seize, his senses mute to the world around him. All he smells, all he hears, all he sees, all he feels, all he can taste is her. Her hair, their sweat; her sultry whispers, their throaty moans; her body, their sensual rhythm; her touch, their ecstasy; her tongue, their kiss. She overwhelmed him, made him numb to everything else.

He began to wonder if he could handle it.

_But do not ask the price I paid_  
 _I must live with my quiet rage_  
 _Tame the ghosts in my head_  
 _That run wild and wish me dead_

The firemen and police officers don’t let him get too close. The heat is still intense enough to steal his breath away. They were all gone. All dead. Laura was all he had left. And it was all his fault.

He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into the flames and let the rage that he could feel burning inside him be allowed to burn the rest of him. It would be more mercy than he deserved, though, so he made himself feel it. Let it simmer beneath the surface, make his skin hot and tight like the heat from the fire.

He hears them in his dreams. Screams and pleas and accusations. They taunt him, drive him nearly mad and he does not sleep for days at a time. The voices, the memories were cruel. He deserved it. Only Laura, his Alpha, his sister, his only family could make them stop for a time.

He did not ask for it. Never asked for her help.

_Should you shake my ash to the wind_  
 _Lord, forget all of my sins_  
 _Or let me die where I lie_  
 _‘Neath the curse of my Lover’s Eyes_

His guilt was a physical thing; he felt it on him, caking his skin in regret and loss and ash. He’d never be clean of it. He wished to scrub it off, scrubbed at it until he bled trying to remove the guilt and be clean of it, but he couldn’t.

His own recklessness and lust had done this and he had to pay the price. He’d brought it upon himself and, worse, had brought it upon Laura as well. Death would be kind for his transgressions and there were days and nights and weeks that he would long for it.

_‘Cause there’s no drink or drug I’ve tried  
To rid the curse of these Lover’s Eyes_

He hated himself a little more every time his metabolism worked through the alcohol before he could feel anything more than a slight buzz. He wanted so desperately to forget even for a moment what had happened, what he’d done, but he couldn’t. There was nothing he could do but live with knowing it was his fault, that he’d practically handed her his entire family on a silver platter, and she’d taken it.

She’d taken everything, because that’s what he’d given her.

_And I feel numb, beneath your tongue  
Your strength just makes me feel less strong_

He should have seen it coming. Coming back had been a mistake, but there was no turning back now. Laura was dead, Peter was alive but insane, and Kate was back. There were more than just chains holding him in this town now, and he wouldn’t run again. He was tired of running.

Her presence was torture, though. Worse than he thought possible. The electricity was endured, the beatings were bearable, but she was suffocating. She sapped him of the strength he’d been building for years and when she put her tongue on him again, the rage made him numb to everything else.

_But do not ask the price I paid_  
 _I must live with my quiet rage_  
 _Tame ghosts in my head_  
 _That run wild and wish me dead_

Killing Peter was just another thing to add to his list of sins. He was forced to slay the last remaining family he had. Killing Peter was putting him out of the misery that had been the result of his relationship with Kate. Peter’s taunting added to the others, renewed from being back and facing Kate. Her voice filtered in now too. Not the loudest, not by far, but definitely the worst.

His anger was all that kept him in control of his new power.

_Should you shake my ash to the wind_  
 _Lord, forget all of my sins_  
 _Or let me die where I lie_  
 _‘Neath the curse of my Lover’s Eyes_

When he first got back to Beacon Hills he forced himself to go back to the house. It was falling apart, the fire had eaten away at almost everything within. He stirred dust and ash when he walked inside, and it choked him. He forced himself to go back anyway. He would never forgive himself for what had happened, and he could not forget, but it was all he had left of them.

He would continue on because he had to. If any powers that be took offense to that, they were welcome to take him out, but until then, he would live in the house his actions had built.

_And I’ll walk slow, I’ll walk slow  
Take my hand help me on my way_

Of all the fool places to go, he finds himself in the annoying kid, Stiles’, _bedroom_ while hiding from his father the _sheriff_. He berates himself repeatedly because there is no logical reason for him to be here. When the kid finds him, he’ll toss his ass to his father.

Stiles doesn’t. He keeps his presence secret, helps him with his problem, helps him find the alpha. Stiles misses his game because he’s helping, he almost gets Stiles killed as reward.

_And I’ll walk slow, I’ll walk slow  
Take my hand help me on my way_

Against his better judgement, he tries to get Stiles to run rather than focus on the threat. But, that’s always been his way... ignoring the threat. He winds up paralyzed for his stupidity.

But there’s that kid again, helping.

He doesn’t understand why Stiles holds him up for hours in the pool. He doesn’t understand why he comes back for him after trying to get help. He doesn’t understand.

So he makes up something that he can understand. Stiles needs him to fight the kanima. That’s the only reason he holds him up. He ignores the voice that says he could have run to start with.

_And I’ll walk slow, I’ll walk slow  
Take my hand help me on my way_

He doesn’t know where Stiles heard about the Alpha Pack, he doesn’t know how Stiles managed to find where they’d taken him, and he really doesn’t know when Stiles got his hands on enough hardware to walk into a den of Alpha werewolves and single-handedly kill them all.

All he does know is that Stiles is covered in blood that is, for once, not his own, and is helping him to his feet. He knows when he sees his betas alive, waiting for them at the entrance to the den being tended by Deaton and Melissa McCall, that Stiles got all of them out too. He knows they’re all alive.

He knows Stiles is the reason.

_And I’ll walk slow, I’ll walk slow  
Take my hand help me on my way_

Stiles grabs his hand and pulls him along the trail further into the forest. He follows because he wants to. He has gotten more and more used to occasionally doing what he wants because he wants to, he allows himself to do this again. He doesn’t know where Stiles is leading him, but that’s okay too. He allows himself to trust again as well.

Stiles stops and tells him to close his eyes and not cheat. He gives him a frown which only makes Stiles smile more. He doesn’t want to close his eyes because then he won’t see that smile, but he does as he’s told because it’s Stiles asking.

Further into the woods he walks, his eyes closed, trying not to focus too hard on any particular sound or scent so as not to ‘cheat’. He focuses on Stiles instead and allows himself to want.

Stiles stops walking, tells him to wait. He hears Stiles step away a few feet and then tells him to open his eyes. He does and he’s greeted with the sight of an elaborate dinner set up. The table--an actual _table_ , Stiles is ridiculous--has a pure white tablecloth draped over it, there are candlesticks with candles--unlit, because Stiles knows he dislikes fire--and dishes. Stiles is standing next to one of the nice, padded chairs and he gestures for him to sit.

He doesn’t. Instead, he walks up to Stiles and pulls him into a kiss.

Because he wants to.


End file.
